


Proposition

by Athene



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Gen, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athene/pseuds/Athene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Successor. Rowen learns more about Li Ying. Post-Xillia 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proposition

They began drinking tea together when Li turned twelve.  
  
There was no particular reason that they held off from doing so; the birthday occasion simply gave Rowen the opportunity to invite Li to his home, away from the prying eyes of the public. He watched in amusement as the boy appraised his furniture while feigning an indifferent expression, arranging teacups and teapot for their eventual sit-down.  
  
Li Ying, as it turned out, was the only son of a Rieze Maxian mother and the illegitimate third son of an Elympion trader. There was noticeable disdain in Li's voice as he spoke of his father, who he had last heard was out somewhere in Drellin, though it faded away as he focused instead on the parent who remained. His mother had worked as a maid at the Hotel Fenntasia, trying to make ends meet for most of his early life while he was watched by her coworkers.  
  
His fire spyrite was a gift from the hotel manager for his eighth birthday, given on some misguided notion that the spyrite would offer him other opportunities while also acting as a pet. But Li inherited a fairly strong mana lobe from his mother's side, so the spyrite went as more of a companion than a tool for childish ambitions. (As it should be, Rowen thought to himself.)  
  
"Did I say something amusing?"  
  
It was moments like this, when the conversation ground to a halt with a few words, that he could see Wingul in the boy. The inquiry was almost cold in its delivery, with little affect, but the boy's eyes were set on his face, searching out any hint of scorn or malice. Those were not the eyes of a boy who had simply experienced a tough childhood.  
  
They were the eyes of a calculating young man who knew what his drinking partner was capable of.  
  
"Not at all." He nodded at the glowing spyrite curled around Li's shoulders, as if in explanation. "I was just approving of your relationship with your spyrite."  
  
Li blinked once at the response before nodding, reaching to drink from his teacup; he had no reason to dwell on Rowen's words. He continued on with his everyday details, a simple routine of taking odd jobs at the Samsara and cleaning the storefronts in the evenings after the crowds had thinned—a whole lifetime away from a wartime youth who had taken the reins of an entire Auj Oule tribe.  
  
Not that Li spoke in comparisons. He said nothing of his former life, to the point that Rowen questioned whether or not he remembered the majority of it. After all, reincarnation was not something he paid much attention to, though it was a fundamental part of the world’s flow; the widespread idea was that a soul was reincarnated without the burden of memories from its past life, and it was accepted when there were no incidents reported of people reuniting across lives. Perhaps the destruction of all the fractured dimensions had something to do with this phenomenon?  
  
Or perhaps Wingul was just a particularly stubborn soul. A mystifying, but altogether not absurd, thought.  
  
“Your mind is wandering, Ilbert.”  
  
A chuckle escaped him as he was caught by his guest, and he lifted his teacup in acknowledgment. “I found myself thinking of how we came to this point. I would have never thought it possible.”  
  
“It can’t be any more astonishing than finding another world on the other side of a wall you did not know existed.” It was almost a verbal shrug, downplaying the significance of their current positions. Li reached for a tea biscuit, turning it between his small fingers for a few seconds before speaking again. “Ask your questions, if you must. You’ve kept them to yourself a long time.”  
  
His smile tightened faintly at the corners, emphasizing the creases around his lips. For months now, they had met only in the most public of spaces in the city, scrutinized by those who recognized the Prime Minister of Rieze Maxia. Neither could speak freely about what was on their minds, instead analyzing intentions and judging each other entirely on what little was said and what mostly was left unsaid.  
  
If Li simply wanted contact with Gaius, the palace was open for audiences much like had been established back in Kanbalar. At no point did he have to meet with or reveal himself to Rowen, his inadvertent replacement as King Gaius’ advisor.  
  
With that in mind, he did not have to ask why Li met with him; there was clearly something he wanted from him, and he would wait for the request instead of prompting for it. Perhaps Li was not yet ready to share that piece of information with him, even if it was fairly obvious to him.  
  
“Care to have another cup of tea?”  
  
The boy rolled his eyes at the blithe question, but gestured with his free hand in affirmation. Rowen’s smile eased as he reached for the teapot and leaned over to refill his guest’s cup. If they had to broach serious matters down the line, he might as well break what ice was there beforehand.  
  
“How much of your past life do you remember?”  
  
“Eruru ifu uti.”  
  
It was Rowen’s turn to blink at the response and nod; though his grasp of Long Dau remained rudimentary at best, he had progressed enough to understand the simple sentence. He watched Li quietly eat his biscuit while mulling over what else he could ask.  
  
Nothing pertinent immediately came to mind. The boy was not presently a threat—not to him, not to Gaius, and certainly not to the stability of the country.  While he seemed to have the mind and memory of the former Ebon Wing of Auj Oule, Li lacked power and authority.  
  
But, much like the boy who had become the Dawn King, he possessed a burning will. It would be best to keep an eye on him and see if his loyalties had followed him into his new life.  
  
When no other questions came, Li leaned back in his seat, his spyrite curling its tail lightly around the side of his neck. “I’m sure you have surmised my end goal to a certain degree. I’m also sure that you are wondering why I am here.” His eyes briefly strayed to the windows, where the sun was slowly moving out of sight. “In order to establish myself, I will need a record. Jobs. References. To that end, I want to work for you.”  
  
He clucked his tongue chidingly. “Gaming the system, are you? One doesn’t become the aide to a high-ranking official without merits, Master Li.” It would sound absurd trying to defend his choice purely on knowing what he had accomplished in a previous life.  
  
It was subtle, but he caught a sly glint in the boy’s eyes. “What were the last few months if not one long interview?”  
  
Rowen stroked his beard with a smile. Of course. While the public park kept them from speaking candidly about Li Ying’s identity, it also served the purpose of creating a visible relationship between the two of them. Who wouldn’t whisper about the boy who played against Prime Minister Ilbert and won handily on occasion?  
  
“And what should I tell Gaius?”  
  
Perhaps it was simply coincidence, but Li sat up straight at that moment, reaching for his cup to drain the cooling tea. “Tell him you found yourself a protégé.”  
  
A comfortable silence settled between them as they finished their drinks. Gaius could be told of their arrangement eventually.  
  
Rowen wondered how Gaius would react to the news.  
  
Li wondered if Gaius would accept him at all.

**Author's Note:**

> "Eruru ifu uti." = "All of it."
> 
> As a note continued from Successor, Li Ying is used as the name of the reincarnated Wingul; his name in his prior life remains Lin Long Dau.
> 
> ...I remain undecided on whether I'll go with Arst or Erston for Gaius' name.


End file.
